The Major's Muslin
by emorexia
Summary: Serena Ross had lost everything in her life. life couldn't get any worse - until Darien Haldane came waltzing back into her life! she needs his help but that would mean sacrificing one thing she has left - her heart....
1. Chapter 1

Serena leant on the sill of the small casement window in her attic room and looked out over the sea of grey slate roofs shimmering in the heat, to the distant dome of St Paul's.

She sighed wishing for the bright blustery moors and the cool clear burns of Scotland where she had spent her childhood, wishing she was anywhere but here in London on this stifling late May morning of 1810.

Amid the clatter of hooves and rumble of iron-rimmed wheels and the cries of the street-sellers and the hawkers at the nearby market she heard the nearest church clock strike the hour and she knew she could not put off her departure any longer.

Dragging in a breath of the humid air, she turned away from the window and picked up her faded blue silk shawl and straw bonnet and the brief letter from Lady Carteret, her application for the post of governess and to attend an interview. She was stupid for feeling so sickly nervous about the prospect of visiting the house. It was not as if she had never met Darien's sister and was likely to be recognised and besides there was no danger of Darien being there.

Darien was dead, lying in some Spanish grave. She had known that for more than a month and yet she still could not really believe it. Her big blue eyes darkened as memories she had tried so hard to bury came tumbling back into her mind. Darien laughing, his dark head thrown back as he had spun her around the ballroom until she had been giddy. Darien with his midnight eyes that had darkened to the colour of black when he bent his head to kiss her. Darien who had left her—

Her fingers clenched upon the brim of her bonnet, _I will not cry_. She had done crying for him five years ago! Angry with herself she crammed the bonnet upon her head and quickly snatched her small satchel with Lady Carteret's letter stuffed inside and she opened the door. She stood there for a while listening to the loud noises from the house below. She could hear her land lady's raucous laughter drifting up from her kitchen. _Good, Mrs Crouch has company and a jug of gin by the sound of it, _she thought as she quietly shut the door behind her and silently as possible tread downstairs hoping the floor would not creak. Her rent was more than a week overdue and she had no desire to discuss the matter with Mrs Crouch at this particular moment.

She tiptoed through the dark and dingy hallway, and slipped out of the door into the blinding sunshine and hot, humid air. She briskly walked around the corner of the street until she was out of sight of her lodgings. She untied the ribbons upon her bonnet as she began the long walk to Mayfair after all it was a cool day.

_

* * *

__Please, please, let me get this position _she prayed silently a little while later as she stood beneath a shady tree looking out upon the big mansion only a couple of feet away from her. _Please—_

In the six months since her father's death she had applied for post after post as governess or companion and been turned down more times than she could count.

She touched her fingers to her satchel feeling for the letter carefully. She had to get this position. It was that or starve or worse – her mouth thinned and she felt the churning sense of revulsion and fear that she had since the moment Diamond Robson had shown her the debt against her that she had purchased and had suggested exactly how she might pay it.

Lifting her chin, she exhaled slowly and touched the letter again. Surely they were good enough to persuade Darien Haldane's sister to give her a trial.

It was an hour later when Serena was ushered inside the grand house and seated in a very large spacious room, she was seated next to a pianoforte and she couldn't help but remember the times her father would play her favourite song everyday. She lightly traced her hands across the keys and played a few last chords of Sonatina, she let herself drift back in time, a time where money was of no concern to her, where she was loved by Darien –

"You play beautifully" Serena gasped and turned around immediately stepping away from the piano to face Lady Carteret. She slightly bowed her head feeling ashamed for being caught in touching one's belonging without permission.

"I am awfully sorry my lady I did not mean any harm," Serena said apologetically fearing she had lost this opportunity for a position. "There is no need for apology; you play Mozart a deal better than me I can assure you that, Miss Smith." Lady Carteret replied with a small smile.

Serena lifted her head surprised from the friendly tone. She found herself looking at a very beautiful woman, dark black head fitted perfectly with her heart-shaped face, taking in the perfect features and blemishless creamy complexion. Serena could not help but be in awe of the beautiful woman before her, _she looks very much like Darien._

"Come – sit down here Miss Smith." There was the faintest hint of amusement in the older woman's voice as she gestured to a well-cushioned chair besides the fire. "It was very rude of me not to introduce myself properly, my name is Raye Carteret," she placed a hand out to Serena and she took it very kindly.

"Now, I think we should begin again don't you think Miss Smith?" Raye was looking at Serena with warm eyes and had seen the split second frightened fear flash in the girl's eyes. "What do you mean?" Serena was startled, for a heart stopping moment she thought Raye somehow knew her real identity.

The cool green eyes met her gaze assessingly. "It is obvious you were raised a lady, by the grace and posture you have, surely no woman would hold herself so high when being dressed in that awful gown. Were you a seamstress?" Serena watched amazed as Lady Carteret examined her hands, marked and rubbed from the endless hours of backbreaking sewing she had done over the last few months in exchange for a wage that did not even pay the rent. Raye frowned at why such a beautiful girl obviously a lady was in such bad condition. "Could you not get better than sewing?"

"No. It seems I am too young, too inexperienced, I have no character – and the agencies I approached said I had not the right looks for a companion." She silently replied.

"I can only agree with them," Raye Carteret said. "Even that ugly gown can not disguise your looks, Miss Smith. Pretty governess or companions cause problems enough, but a beautiful one…." She shook her head and gave a small laugh, "I am sorry but I doubt any mother would employ you for fear her older sons would make fools of themselves and her husband an even greater one, not to mention making her daughters look plain compared to your beauty. If I were you, I should go back to the husband or family you have run away from Miss Smith, and beg their forgiveness or…." She gave a silvery laugh "…find a wealthy protector, my dear. With your looks it really shouldn't be too difficult."

Before Serena could stammer a reply, the door to the room was flung open by a breathless, beaming woman. "M'lady! M'lady!" the woman gasped for air, "you must come at once, M'lady!"

"Really Molly, have you not learnt to knock yet?" Lady Carteret sighed, "Whatever is it?"

"Major Haldane, madam, he's here, downstairs. I heard the doorbell, opened it and there he was – "

Raye was in shock and shook her head at Molly, "No Molly, Major Haldane was killed in January, you must know that by know – "

"No, madam," the maid replied, "the reports were wrong, he was wounded and he's been a prisoner of the French all this time, he's alive, madam, come and see for yourself!"

"Alive." Raye repeated the word blankly. Then Serena saw the same joyous disbelief and dizzying that she was feeling mirrored upon the other woman's face. Then Raye was running for the door as she bunched her skirt carelessly in her hands like a little girl. "Darien, Darien, Is it really you? Tell me you are not a ghost!"

A rich laughing, masculine voice soon joined with Raye's joyous laugh was heard from upstairs. Serena paled immediately. Darien Haldane was not dead. _He was not dead! _He was here in this house. She put a hand to the mantle to steady herself.

The moment she had read about his death there had been a frozen blackness in her mind, a blackness that was now dissolving and whirling about her as her heart pounded crazily against her ribs. _Darien. _She inhaled a long breath. It had been five years since he walked away from her life. Her hands clenched into a fist as tears burned behind her eyelids.

"Miss? Are you all right, miss? You're shaking like a leaf in a gale – " Molly touched her arm, making her jolt from her thoughts. "No. I need some air," she blurted knowing suddenly she could not bear to see him. She had dreamed of him every night, which he would come and tell her it was all a misunderstanding and tell her that he would never desert her, not even for some Earl's daughter – but in those dreams she had not worn an ugly gown begging for a position in his sister's household. "Please could you show me out, quickly," she pleaded turning to Molly.

"Of course miss, please follow me." Molly tuned and left the room with Serena right behind. "Watch your step, miss," Molly said as they both descended the long curving flight of stairs. She would be out safely through the great double doors. Out of sight and sound of Darien Haldane.

* * *

But she had no such luck, for the door below had opened. She halted knowing in her heart it was him. She stared helplessly as she began to climb the opposite flight, so deep in conversation they had not noticed her or Molly. Her eyes would not obey her as she watched him move up the stairs.

The curl of dark hair at the nape of his neck, the slanting line of jaw and cheekbone was enough to trigger her memory to remind her every detail, from the lines at the corner of his mouth and his eyes when he smiled, to his cheeks when he had bent his head to hers. She slumped against the cool marble wall feeling as if she was falling apart inside.

"Serena!" She saw his mouth frame her name disbelievingly. He looked older; his features sharper, more defined, there was no trace of laughter as he gazed at her. Something twisted and tore her insides. And then she was running, almost stumbling down the marble steps.

"Oh dear, I had quite forgotten about her. Miss Smith – wait!" Raye Carteret's voice rang out after her but she ignored it as she rushed past a bemused Molly. "How very odd," Raye said as she opened the doors to her drawing-room. "She seems so fragile and very lovely, I was considering to give her a trial –" but she broke off abruptly.

Darien was standing stock still, his face pale as his hands were clenched in a tight fist. "Darien?" Raye frowned at him. "What is it? Your wound? Are you feverish….?" Raye broke off as she found herself watching her brother running down the stairs and out of the double doors, as if his life depended upon it.

**

* * *

****Phew there fini! **

**What do you think my lovely people, good or bad, interesting, or not. You decide.**

**Btw this story does not mean I am going to stop writing 'love across the horizon', no, no surrey I had this in my head and last week I read this book that gave me some great ideas for a new story, so I just had to start writing this or it would be lost in the back of my memory forever!! Lol **


	2. Chapter 2

Serena exhaled as the doors shut behind him. She had watched him run out of the portico staring across the deserted cobbled squares apparently seeing any sign of her. She was only a few feet away from him pressed tightly against one of the great columns of the portico that hid her from his sight.

She did not know what had made her run away or why she had hidden. She only knew that just seeing him again and knowing she had no place in his life and never would, hurt – hurt so much she could scarcely breathe or think.

Slowly head bowed down she made her way across the square shaken and quivering. She was almost a mile away before she realised she had left her shawl and bonnet behind.

"You are thinking about that young woman who came to apply for governess aren't you Darien?" Raye laughed with a twinkle of amusement in her eyes as she watched her brother. She had noticed that he was not paying attention to her babbling for the last couple of minutes, but instead absorbed with the flickering flames of the drawing-room fire.

"A governess?" he gave a half laugh. "Then she cannot be the person I mistook her for. She was an heiress to a considerable fortune." He glanced at Raye and saw the small frown upon her face, "Who did you think it was?" she asked.

"The girl I met when I was in Banffshire for the summer, just before I took the despatches to India."

"Miss Ross, the one who let you think she was her widowed cousin!" Raye laughed. "Oh I have only met her once and she was absolutely wonderful!"

"Well anyway, she must be wed with a brat or two, no doubt by now" Darien gave a slightly forced laugh which did not go unnoticed by Raye.

"You were in love with her, weren't you?" Raye looked at her brother sceptically obviously regarding weather or not what he would say next were true.

"In love?" he snorted and leant against the arm of the green silk sofa, picking up the neatly folded silk shawl in which Serena had placed there when she had got up to play on the piano. His dark brows lifted. "Come now Raye, you know me better that that!"

"I know you better than you think," his sister said tartly with a smile still lingering on her lips. A long silent reined upon the siblings each in their own thoughts – until Raye gave a sudden gasp as Darien was feeling the shawl between his fingers. "Beryl, you must know about Beryl!"

"Beryl?" he repeated the name as he straightened the shawl still in his hands. "Lady Beryl Margaret! Your betrothed! Do not tell me you have forgotten her entirely brother?" Raye gave an exaggerated sigh.

"And what of Beryl?" Darien asked with a blank face clearly stating he was not the least bit concerned. "Well you can hardly blame her Darien, not when you volunteered to take those despatches to India before the ink was even dry upon the announcement, and then no sooner are you back from there, you left for Spain without even calling upon her…or a matter of fact me!"

"Will you just get to the point Raye," he said wearily as his midnight blue eyes lifted momentarily to her agitated face. "Well….she became betrothed to Sapphire Ruther last week. She thought you were dead as we all did."

"Betrothed?" he said impassively his eyes dropping back to the shawl. "Then I must write and thank my French host for timing my resurrection well. To think a week earlier and I'd have been facing a lifetime of Beryl's babble at the breakfast table."

"Darien how could you say that, that is not appropriate to say about one's grief over you! She was distraught!" Raye gave a scowl at Darien. "I'm sure she did, until she became bored with playing the heartbroken heroine and realised that black does nothing for her complexion." He replied his eyes still glued to the silken shawl.

"Oh Darien don't be so mean!" Raye cried out but then thinking about it for a minute, Darien did have a good point since if she was in Beryl's position she would not have jumped to the next man after a couple of weeks of hearing her beloved's death. _Besides she seems to over the top!_

Darien did not notice that Raye was talking to him after the news of Beryl's new groom because he had suddenly paled. "This shawl." He cut her off in mid sentence as he held up the garment. "Who does this belong to?" Raye glanced at the faded silk and gave a small frown, "Oh dear it must be Miss Smith, she must have left it behind."

Darien exhaled as he ran his thumb over a neatly mended cornered tear near its fringed hem, knowing suddenly it had been Serena he had seen. _How could I have doubted it for a moment, _he wondered thinking of her face so white and thinner, she seemed so fragile than he remembered but still as breathtakingly beautiful.

His fingers tightened around the shawl. She had been wearing this the first time he had kissed her. They had been walking in the grounds of her god-mother's house in Banffshire. It had been one of those lovely mornings with the slight breeze in the wind. She had been laughing as he leant across her, his hand brushing her shoulder. Her big blue eyes had stared right back at him, part startled and part afraid. It was at that moment when all his intentions and his resolutions flew out of the window. He had pulled his arms closer around her and her mouth softer that the silken shawl had opened to his.

When she had confessed that she was Serena and not Selene Ross a week later, it had been too late – he had fallen in love with her.

But that had been five years ago, and now she was begging for a post as a governess under an assumed name –

"I must see her, Where does she live?" his sister started at his sudden barked question. "Who do you must see Darien?"

"Ser – I mean Miss Smith, where does she live?" Darien snapped at the question obviously worried that he had lost her by wasting this precious time of talking about Beryl and the latest news.

"Miss Smith, well…I don't know Darien, but she may have talked to Molly I suppose –" she broke off as the slamming of the drawing-room door indicated that her brother was already out of earshot.

_He had not even been certain it was you, _Serena told herself as she trudged along the dreary street of shabby houses, stumbling now and then as her long skirt clung to her from the scorching sun. _He have probably forgotten all about me since the day he had left Scotland five years before and yet…I can't help but think that I saw something in his face and eyes when he had first noticed me – fool! _She screamed mentally in her head trying to shake off her thoughts. _Will I never learn? He cares nothing for me, he never had –"_

"Didn't get the place, then?" an all too familiar sneering voice halted her in mid-stride and mid-thought as she reached the door of her lodgings, and a strong built man in a shiny black frock coat and greasy moleskin waistcoat, stepped out of the shadowy hall to stand upon the step.

_Diamond, I should have known he would have me followed, _she thought flatly. Since she had refused his advances and she had a debt against her, he had been trailing her like a carrion crow until she had nothing left to pawn or sell, nothing left in which to feed herself.

"Friend of mine saw you going off West all dressed up," he said snidely as his eyes travelled over her muslin which clung to her like second skin. "What happened?" he asked as his button eyes came to rest upon her breasts. "Why don't you come back to my house now, Miss Ross and get yourself tided up? We'll forget all about the fifty pounds –"

He broke off his gaze as she lifted her head and pushed back a piece of her golden hair from her face. "Get out of my way, Diamond." The words were cold and sounded almost dangerous as the expression in her now dark eyes.

"All right, all right, no need to look like that –" he put his hand up and retreated back a couple of steps to let her pass. "I was only trying to help you out –"

"I will give you your money a fortnight from now as you requested, and until then I do not wish to speak with you, see you or worse smell you!" she added ferociously. "You'll change your mind when you are starving." He snarled. "Your price won't be fifty pounds? You'd be lucky to get half if you sold yourself to a duke in the Row."

She made no reply not to start a fight in front of her lodgings. With a curse he turned abruptly and left. She watched him go and entered her lodgings and only when she slammed the door and was in the narrow hall did she let out a breath and her anger gave to despair. She had no chance of raising fifty pounds in just short time.

Startled by the noise of the outside door opening, she rose to her feet and her thin face blaze with anger. _If that is Diamond again… _"Serena?" She stilled instantly, her heart, breath and her mind stilled as she recognised the tall, broad-shouldered figure that blocked most of what little light penetrating the dark hall. "Serena, may I come in?" he stepped forward without waiting for her answer.

The tightness in her chest kept her mute as she could only stare at him in disbelief; her eyes drank in everything as she took in the changes the five years had made. He seemed taller, more muscled in the shoulder, leaner at the waist. The sun had left streaks of gold in the rich dark black hair which swept back from his brow. His face was harsher, the angled jaw and slanted cheekbones, the wide thin slash of his mouth seemed more define. The war had wiped out all traces of boyishness that had been there when he was twenty-three. There was a new hardness beneath the lazy grace, coldness in the blue eyes she did not remember seeing – but all else was the same.

She still wanted to touch him, wanted to run to him and beg him to hold her, wanted it so much that it hurt – _God, how could it still hurt so much after five years!_

"I have brought your bonnet and shawl," he said apologetically. "You left them at Lady Carteret's house. I thought you might need them…." When she made no effort to grab the garments but remained still and silent, not moving and even scarcely breathing. He came further into the hall and set the shawl and bonnet down upon a rickety side table.

"I – I… well….if I have come at inconvenient moment then let me apologise." He sounded embarrassed as his gaze flicked from her hair hanging across her face down to the back of her clinging muslin gown. She dropped her gaze to the floor afraid that she would see pity in his eyes, where once been love. _No! _She told herself, _which was a mistake, he had never loved me and it had been no more than lust! _

He gave an exasperated sigh, "Say something Serena, anything, a greeting at least –"

"Good afternoon Major Haldane." The words were cold and hard like stones. "Good afternoon – is that all you have to say after –" she cut him off mid-sentence. "After five years? I can't think of anything else to say."

"Serena." He took a step forward and put out a hand as if to touch her arm, but she recoiled from it as if she was stung by a bee. His arm dropped heavily back to his side. "I cannot blame you if have come to hate me."

"Hate you?" she said harshly as her brows lifted, "I feel nothing towards you, Major Haldane except what I should feel for an old acquaintance." His mouth twisted into a humourless laugh, "I suppose I have no right to think myself more than that."

"None, now if you'll excuse me I have to change my gown…" she took a step towards upstairs but was blocked by his muscular body, "No, I want to know what had befallen you – why you are in this place –" he looked around disdainfully, she replied coldly as she stared at him, "I do not see why my situation should concern you now, since you have been abroad and we are unlikely to have much to say."

He shook his head. "I have a great deal to say to you, things that I should have said five years ago." He looked down at her small form and wanted badly to touch her and take all the pain he had caused gone. "Really? About what?" she said coldly. "The weather? The State of Spain?"

"No, I was thinking of Lady Beryl Margaret," he said grimly. "Lady Beryl…oh of course, your betrothed. I wonder how I could have forgotten. So many people took the liberty in to show me all the details. They said she is very pretty, you must tell me where the wedding is to be, so I may be sure to come and watch at the church – or will it be in the country?" she asked lifting her gaze and giving a false bright smile.

"Stop!" the words exploded from him with such savagery that she flinched. "I never meant to cause you such hurt," he said more gently. "Hurt? No Major Haldane you did not hurt me one bit." She answered avoiding his gaze and turning away abruptly.

"Wait!" he caught her arm as she tried to pass him. "Please?" she went stock still, aware of nothing but the warmth of his strong brown fingers burning through the thin material of her gown, melting her insides that she trembled.

"This has not change." His voice softened as he felt the tremor run through her slight body. "Has it?" _wrong move_ he thought as her chin jerked up. She stared at him with almost black eyes filled with fury. For five years a mask of coldness were her only defence against the laughter, the sneers, the sudden silences when she had entered the room in which everyone had been talking a moment before. But now her anger welled up inside her that she desperately wanted to release. She lifted her hand to strike but she met his all-too-knowing gaze and she let her hand drop.

"Is this a Spanish or French custom?" her gaze dropped pointedly to where his hand still gripped her arm. "My apologies." He released her instantly, "Perhaps I am wrong – five years ago you would have hit me –"

"Almost certainly," she said, "but then I was very young and lacking injudgement about many things. Now will you go?" he looked at her wearily. "I am not going until you tell me why you were at my sister's house seeking a place and why you are living here, it is evident you are in some kind of difficulty and I should like to help –"

"You may help me by leaving!" she said impatiently. "Serena –" he began but was cut off. "No Darien, there is nothing – now if you'll excuse me, I have to change, I cannot think we have anything else to say, do you?"

"It would seem not," he said after an endless moment of silence in which he stared at her, "But if you are in need of funds…I owe you that, at least…"

"You owe me what?" her blue eyes blazed to silver as she spoke. "A guinea for each kiss?"

"Damnation Serena – I did not mean –" Serena reverted her gaze as she slowly whispered, "Just go." Darien face softened fractionally, until he decided it was no use in ever being part of Serena's life again, "Then Goodbye Miss Ross." She stood there motionless for several minutes after the door slammed shut behind him, too numb inside to even cry.

"That was stupid, letting him go," Mrs Crouch, her landlady sneered putting her head around the kitchen door from behind which she had undoubtedly listened to every word. "Who are you waiting for, the Prince Regent?" she cackled at her joke. "A gentleman like that could have set you up real nice with a house and carriage." Serena agreed dully as she picked up her shawl and bonnet. She knew she ought to run after him and gratefully accept whatever help he could give, but she couldn't. For tonight at least, she would allow herself the luxury of pride. Tomorrow – she would write and beg for his assistance.

**Wow that was longer than I thought! **


	3. Chapter 3

Five days later, Serena sat staring at the little heap of copper and silver coins in her lap. It did not matter how many times she counted it, there was not enough. _Not enough to even feed me for a week, let alone pay the rent. _And if she did not pay the rent by Friday – then she would find herself out on the streets. _Friday, I got three days in which to make five shilling. _By some miracle she had managed so far to get some work that was not controlled by Diamond, she considered herself lucky so far.

_There has to be something I could do! _But her mind was clouded with panic as she glanced outside from her attic window. She looked down below the street and her heart twisted at the sight she saw, a small girl snuggled close to her mother for warm, sat huddled next to a pile of rubbish. Her heart tore as she saw how firmly the little girl's arm was wrapped around the rather dirty rag doll. At her age she would not have given it a second glance. But then at that time she had a pony, books, dolls with wax heads and silken gowns, a garden to play in….

A clatter of hooves in the street below brought her to her feet in a sudden desperate hope. She ran to the window, the coins falling from her lap and rolling across the boards about her feet. _An answer, oh please let it be an answer from Darien…._

Her hope died as quickly as it formed – _it was only the coal cart. _She stayed at the window, staring out of the flawed glass. Five days since the last time she had seen him. It felt more like a year as she had waited for him to reply to her letter, running out to the landing, her heart thudding against her chest at every knock upon the door, every footsteps in the hall.

_He is not going to answer Serena._ It had taken her until this moment to finally admit that to herself she thought numbly, _why do I have such a ridiculous deep faith in a man who already betrayed my trust! _She made a sound that was half-laugh and half-sob. _He would hardly wish to continue the acquaintance five years ago, probably a few minutes of my reflection had him thanking the good fortune and judgement which made him cut all connection with me and my family. _

A glimpse of movement in the alleyway below sent a stab of fear slicing through her despair and anger. _Tyson, one of Diamond's cronies again, _he was lounging against the wall staring up at her window. Her stomach knotted painfully. These last few days she had not been able to take a step without one of Diamond's men a pace or two behind her – they had followed her as she had trudged mile after mile looking for work of any kind, but when she couldn't get a job, that piece of information would always report back to Diamond himself.

"Try running," he had warned her two days ago, "and I'll have you in the King's Bench faster than a lighter goes under Tower Bridge." She had always planned to run away but she could never do it as she was always watched like a hawk. She put a hand to her forehead and pushed back a strand of pale hair from her face. _There has to be some way out, there has to be!_ _To think of Diamond even touching me so much as a fingertip makes me sick._

She turned to her narrow bed where her white silk ball gown with blue lace, which she had failed to sell to the brokers, lay glowing in the small room, looking as out of place as she had felt in Raye Carteret's silk drawing-room. She ran her fingertips over the luxurious fabrics as her other clothes had been sold a long time ago, or washed and made over until they fell apart.

The ball gown she had kept till last for a certain reason. She picked up the rustling gown and touched the soft fabric to her cheek. This she had kept because Darien Haldane had thought her beautiful in it – and she had worn it on the happiest night of her life. It had seemed impossible now that she had once been naïve or so happy – the folds of the silk slithered loose and she dropped the gown abruptly back onto the bed as a letter fluttered to the floor.

She bent and picked it up wondering why she had kept it. She knew every hurtful word of it by heart. Five years ago she would have read it a thousand times, searching for a reason, an explanation hidden in the cold polite words. Searching for at least a small conviction that Darien Haldane had loved her a little. Her mouth twisted. _He had not even the decency to tell me in person that he was engaged to Lady Beryl – instead he had sent her this letter – a note of regretting that he would not be able to call upon her in the future. Call upon me – _she gave a choked laugh. He had held her, kissed her, laughed with her, and let her think that he loved her – she crumpled the letter and flung it into the empty black iron grate.

Picking up the ball gown, she folded it and dropped it into the battered and scratched blanket box. It was only as she shook out of her blue velvet folds that she realised that she did have one choice left. If she had to sell herself, it did not have to be Diamond. If she found herself a protector, a wealthy one, then she would at least be free of Diamond. Utterly shaken by her own thought, she sat down upon her bed, clutching her clothes as if her life depended on it.

* * *

When Serena entered the small shabby livery yard some two hours later, it was deserted except for a lithe young man, with unruly brown hair and an impish face, with a scar running down his left cheek, which proclaimed him to be an ex-cavalry mount.

"Well, haven't seen you for a bit," Seiya said glancing at her from his feeding with his horse. "I've been busy, looking for work," she replied. "But you haven't had any luck." It was a statement rather than a question as his green eyes studied her too thin face. "No, Diamond has put word out against me. Seiya, I hate to ask but I need some help…."

"There's not much I can do against Diamond, Serena he knows too much about me. If he chose to put the finger on me, I'd be turned off quicker than I can blink. And if it's money you need –" he shrugged "– I'm out of funds myself at the moment. This devil eats money faster than I can make it," he sighed giving the glossy bay an affectionate slap upon the shoulder. "Aye, and faster than I can drink it," he said wryly as he caught the lift of Serena's brows.

"He looks very well," Serena said glancing at the bay that had begun to paw at the cobbler with an impatient foreleg. "Aye, and just as well in my trade – my neck depends upon his speed and soundness." Serena sighed. "I'd hardly call highway robbery a trade Seiya. Why don't you give it up before you kill someone or they kill you?"

"Because I'd rather be hung for a sheep than a lamb." He grinned at her, "But don't look so prissy, I'm no murderer and they have never caught me yet. Now tell me how can I help you?" Serena cleared her throat. "I was wondering if you'd lend me your horse, just for an hour or two tomorrow."

"You! On this lad! He'd kill you." Seiya threw his head back and laughed. "Please Seiya, I'll manage him, please," she begged him. "Where did you want to take him?" he asked curiously. "The Row," she said flatly after a moment's hesitation. Seiya was silent for a moment and his green eyes slid away from her face. "Decided to find yourself a rich protector then?" he said after a moment. "Yes." Her voice was barely audible. "I have to get away from here."

"It's all right. I'm not judging you," Seiya said quietly, running his hand down the restive bay's neck. "I know you don't belong here Serena – and if you can do better for yourself than Diamond, then I wish you luck."

"You'll loan him to me then?" Seiya replied wearily, "Maybe. You'd better give him a try this afternoon; though what this devil will think of a side-saddle I hate to think. Come on; let's see what we got in the harness room."

* * *

"Oh stop it!" Serena groaned beneath her thick veil the following day, as Seiya's horse threw up his head for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. The bay paid her no attention and continued to toss its head incessantly, paw at the ground and lash its tail irritably at the flies brought out by the sun, She grimaced as the animal danced skittishly, jarring her head. Tightening her grip upon the reins, she brought the horse back from a fretful jog to a standstill and tried to find a more comfortable position upon the saddle which has been made for just for a lady.

Still stiff and bruised from her efforts to side saddle the bay the previous afternoon, she found the effort of holding him in check harder by the minute. It had been four years since her riding horses had been sold, and she lacked the stamina that came from riding daily. She had been exhausted long before she reached the Row.

It had been madness to borrow it. If Seiya had not been so drunk this morning, she knew he would have changed his mind and refused to allow taking the animal out of the yard. _But beggars can't be choosers, _she thought grimly, as the bay tried to sidle away from the flies.

"Oh, be still!" she snapped at the bay as it regained her attention by snaking its head round and nipping at the blue velvet skirt of her clothes. She pulled its head back straight, muttering beneath her breath as it danced upon the spot. It then surged forward almost taking her arms from her sockets. Somehow she kept her seat and circled it back to a fidgeting halt.

"Oh, well sat" a male voice drawled from her left. She turned her head and found herself being scrutinised by heavy-lidded brown eyes belonging to a man riding a flaxen-mane chestnut. The man's small and rather feminine mouth curved into a smile. "I've been admiring your skills for this last half hour," he said lazily, "But they are wasted upon such beast. If you cared to accompany me to my house, I am sure I could provide a better mount. Riding should be a pleasurable experience, if one is to profit by it, should it not?"

She stared at him shocked in total silence by the blunt invitation. This is what she had come for, to find a wealthy protector who would enable her to get away from Diamond – but she could not do it, not for fifty pounds or even for fifty thousand. The self-knowledge hit her like a blow, leaving her with a mixture of despair and relief.

"Well shall we go?" he mistook her silence as a yes and he smiled confidently showing small very white teeth beneath his moist upper lip. "I think not," she replied with all the impassive haughtier she had learnt to hide behind when her father made her go with him to the gaming halls. "You disappoint me." his tone was acid as he looked straight at her. "And I do not care for disappointments. Another day would be more convenient perhaps?"

"No." she replied. "Oh, come now, if it is a matter of price -" she looked at him coldly, "All the money in England would not persuade me to call upon you sir, now I should count it a great favour if you would go away." He laughed, his sensual Italianate features contorting into an unpleasant mask. "If you change your mind, my name is Allan, The marquis of Corton. Perhaps you have heard of me?"

She had in fact – when she had accompanied her father to the gaming halls. Allan had a reputation for duelling and killing his opponents. There had been a scandal about a young man, barely out of school. "Yes, and none of it is good."

"But being good is so very tedious, as I am sure you know." He inclined his head to her before riding away. His parting insult left her unmoved. She had heard much worse in the gaming halls and she had more pressing things to think about, such as how she were to get away from Diamond.

The bay's fretfulness intensified as a horsefly buzzed about its ears. _It is no use even trying to think clearly here, _she decided as she fought to keep the bay from throwing its head back. She had better go back to her lodgings. She drew down her veil and turned the bay for home.

**Thank-you for all the reviews! love you guys! :)**

**Sorry i would have posted this up last nite but i had some school work to do, sorry!**

**Btw to Shurudra, sorry that i confused you with the Selene and Serena thing, what i was trying say is that Darien thought Serena was Selene, Serena's widowed cousin. sorry about that. **

**well leave a review and tell me what you think of this. **


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